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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26475211">they could exist</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles'>PumpkinDoodles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hey, Pumpkin! Halloween Fics [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brock doesn't know, Darcy and Brock go investigating, Darcy is here for the health insurance, Darcy is the skeptic, F/M, Ghost Hunting, TripleAgent!Rumlow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:01:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26475211</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When his boss tells him that he's founding a new SHIELD division, Brock Rumlow doesn't expect the paranormal....or the astrophysicist's former assistant</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Darcy Lewis &amp; Brock Rumlow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hey, Pumpkin! Halloween Fics [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>311</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*I own nothing! Anonymous requested: <em> Concept: Buzzfeed Unsolved esque Au where Darcy is the skeptic and Rumlow is the believer or vice versa and SHIELD assigns Rumlow to the department bc he has to lay low from triple agenting. Darcy is a forced ‘independent’ contractor who is basically forced to work with Shield while Jane’s on Asgard and refuses to do anything unless it’s this even though she doesn’t actually believe it and that a department doesn’t actually exist. Fury is tired of the chaos TM so he just makes on up on the spot. </em></p><p>I love Buzzfeed Unsolved and was seriously tempted to call this "I connected them."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“What I am saying is that--” Nick Fury began. There was a loud noise. A slurping noise. He glared at the small woman sitting in front of him. </p><p>“Sorry,” Darcy Lewis said, pulling a face and swirling her straw. “The good parts of the frappuccino always sink to the bottom, you know?” </p><p>“Uh-huh,” Fury said. He tilted his head. “With Foster on Asgard, we’re giving you a job.”</p><p>“No,” Darcy said. “I’ve got a job--” She was working at a friend’s coffee shop. Hence, free drink.</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Fury said. “You work for SHIELD. You can pick administrative--”</p><p>“Ahhnnnt,” Darcy said cheerfully. “I don’t want to push paperwork. I want”--she paused, thinking rapidly-- “to be one of the Area 51 people,” she decided. She’d been watching lots of Buzzfeed Unsolved anyway.</p><p>“Area 51 people?”</p><p>“Your paranormal activity investigators and whatnot,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve got a department of Weird Stuff, right? I have the relevant experience. I’ve seen things. That Aether stuff, space death robots, multiple kinds of humanoid interstellar freakouts--” </p><p>“Fine.” Fury sighed. </p><p>“Awesome,” Darcy said. “Also, I’d like health insurance.”</p><p>“It can be arranged,” Fury said. She stuck out her hand, shook his, and hopped up to leave before he changed his mind. “Lewis,” Fury called.</p><p>“Yes?” she said.</p><p>“I’ll be pairing you with an experienced SHIELD agent for your...investigations,” he said slowly.</p><p>“Okay,” Darcy said, trying not to show disappointment. It would either be a fuddy-duddy or someone nobody in the office liked, she thought. Possibly both.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“You want me to do what?” Brock Rumlow said, staring at his boss in horror. “Babysit Foster’s assistant while she plays ghost detective? We don’t even have a supernatural department--”</p><p>“Well, maybe it’s time we got one, considering the state of the world. I’m giving you an opportunity here. You’d be founding your own division of SHIELD. You’re the one who expressed concern that you’re getting too old to jump out of planes--” Fury said. He was in full federal director mode. </p><p>“Who told you that?” Rumlow said, more horrified. He’d maybe said something at lunch. “That was a joke,” he lied.</p><p>“Rumlow,” Fury said, voice quiet. “You know it’s been a challenge finding you a suitable role since Lagos.” He’d stressed the word suitable. Rumlow sighed. </p><p>“I know,” he said. Rumlow had faked his own death in Nigeria; before his fake-fight with Cap, he’d been using an alias called Crossbones to steal back SHIELD’s equipment from HYDRA. But he’d been too good a triple agent. People didn’t trust him entirely, even with Hill and Fury vouching for him. Several of his potential STRIKE team members had quit en masse when he came back to the agency. “So, you’re putting me on this, huh?” he said, trying not to sound bitter. Old men were bitter. He was still fit, still looked young. He wasn’t surplus to requirements, he told himself.</p><p>“Yes,” Fury said.</p><p>“I’m founding a new SHIELD division,” he said, trying to make it sound good out loud. “With...Foster’s assistant?”</p><p>“Darcy Lewis,” Fury prompted.</p><p>“Sure,” Rumlow said.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He was sitting in his office when someone just walked in. A brunette in glasses, a big purple coat, and a beret. "Hello?" he said, aiming for intimidating. She smiled brightly.</p><p>“Hello,” she said, plopping down in the chair. “I’m your new coworker.”</p><p>“Darcy Lewis,” he said.</p><p>“Yup, that’s me and you’re--?”</p><p>“Brock Rumlow,” Rumlow said, clearing his throat to begin his planned, <em> this is an important day, the founding of a new division… </em>speech, when she started digging around in her purse.</p><p>“Candy?” she said, offering him a mini Snickers.</p><p>“No thank you,” he said politely. “I, uh---” He realized she’d gotten out a set of keys, too, and frowned.</p><p>“Are you ready to go today?” she asked. “I pre-requested the keys.”</p><p>“Where are we going?” Rumlow asked. </p><p>“Haunted townhouse in Georgetown,” she said, grinning and wiggling.</p><p>“You believe in ghosts?” Rumlow said.</p><p>“Nope,” she said, standing up. “But I believe in health insurance. C’mon, let’s go make some shaky cam videos or something. I wanna scare Jane.”</p><p> </p><p>They were walking down the hallway when she looked at him quizzically. “Do you believe in ghosts?” she asked. </p><p>“Uhhh,” he said slowly.</p><p>“You do!” she said.</p><p>“I’ve worked with ninety year old supersoldiers and I was there for New York,” Rumlow said defensively. “I’ve seen lots of shit. Maybe there’s ghosts, maybe there’s not--but I can’t discount the possibility.”</p><p>“Okay,” she said.</p><p>“Don’t tell anybody I said that,” he added. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*I own nothing! Alaskarostova requested: "If it's ok I'd like to ask if you can write something where Darcy tries her best to reconcile a guilty feeling rumlow to an equally as guilty feeling Bucky over their awkward hydra history cause she wants her boyfriend to get along with her best friend without all the sads."</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p>
  <em>A few weeks later....</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Darcy tapped her fingers nervously on the tabletop and peered out the window. It was a busy Friday night and there were tons of people on the street. All of DC was going out to get smashed, she thought, watching two college students shove each other and laugh. She wondered which of them would arrive first...was that Brock? Darcy leaned so close to the glass she practically left a nose print.  “See something interesting?” a voice said suddenly and she jumped, almost knocking over her cinnamon-vanilla latte. </p><p>“Shit, you scared me!” Darcy said. He smiled at her from the other side of the table.</p><p>“Sorry,” Bucky said. </p><p>“You don’t look sorry,” she sassed.</p><p>“I’m not,” he said back. “But I thought you didn’t scare easy?” Darcy made a face at him and then glanced back to the window. </p><p>“I don’t,” she said. “Hey--” Bucky was stealing some of her latte.</p><p>“These are expensive,” he said. “I wanna make sure they taste good before I spend five whole dollars."</p><p>“Sure, Grandpa Bucko,” she joked. Darcy looked outside. There was a dark haired guy approaching.</p><p>“That Rumlow?” he asked quietly. </p><p>“No,” Darcy said. The dark-haired guy on the sidewalk was someone else. Was he actually going to bail, she wondered? With Jane in space, Darcy had been given a SHIELD job in DC. She didn’t mind being part of a two-person supernatural investigations team. SHIELD’s own Scooby Doo unit. She might’ve requested it specifically. But she hadn’t expected to be partnered with Brock Rumlow. Much less spend this much time with Brock Rumlow. They got along okay. Darcy just hadn’t been able to socialize the former triple agent. He shied away from her friends. Especially Bucky and Steve. Darcy had harassed and cajoled him into meeting Bucky for coffee. To clear the air. To her surprise, Bucky was more game and had actually asked why she was hiding Rumlow. He and Steve and Tony had been doing group therapy with Sam Wilson. </p><p>“I hear he calls you his work wife,” Bucky said wryly. </p><p>“That’s just a joke,” Darcy said, attempting breeziness. She and Bucky had known each other for several years, so Darcy was afraid he could see tell she was trying to play it cool. “We’re not dating...or not dating,” she added. </p><p>“I have no idea what that means,” Bucky said.</p><p>“I mean, we’re not sleeping together,” Darcy clarified.</p><p>“Just in the same tent when you camped out at that old mental hospital?” Bucky said. SHIELD had sent them out because they were looking for cheap land deals for the new headquarters. Hence, creepy hospital.</p><p>“It was two sleeping bags,” Darcy said.</p><p>“But one tent?” Bucky teased. “You know, you can zip two bags together now, Darce. Make one big cozy--”</p><p>“Hi,” Brock said, appearing at Darcy’s elbow. “Barnes.” His voice was serious. “Lewis.” </p><p>“Hello,” Bucky said, grinning. “Sit down. Darce wants us to get along, did you know?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” Rumlow said, sitting down. Darcy thought he looked jittery. “Look, I, uh--” Rumlow took a deep breath. “I feel responsible for...things that happened and I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I should have done something...more to help you.” He was looking into middle distance, then glanced at Bucky.</p><p>“Maybe,” Bucky said, shrugging.</p><p>“What?” Darcy said. They both looked at her.</p><p>“I could have cracked his skull like an egg,” Bucky said mildly. “If you felt the urge to be...helpful while I was still under Pierce’s control. Maybe it would have worked out, but it could have gone badly. I’ve seen the messages. Fury had a point.”</p><p>“What messages?” Darcy said, as Brock grimaced. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll buy you both coffees.” </p><p>“Get me one of yours,” Bucky said. “I liked that.” She got up and left the table. It wasn’t like she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation.</p><p>“I still--I feel wrong about it all,” Rumlow was saying, when the milk steamer cut off all sound.</p><p>“Dammit,” Darcy muttered to herself. When she glanced back, Bucky was shaking his head gently. They seemed okay, she thought; Brock was grimacing and Bucky looked tired, but there were no heated words. Maybe a slight tension in each man’s shoulders. She was carefully carrying the lattes back to them when she heard Bucky ask a question. </p><p>“--with no fucking parachute?” he was saying, shaking his head.</p><p>“Yeah,” Rumlow said.</p><p>“Jesus Christ, I’ll never be able to rest,” Bucky said. He looked up at Darcy and his expression shifted. He grinned. “You know, she tased Thor,” he said.</p><p>“I did,” Darcy said proudly.</p><p>“You did what?” Brock asked. “Have you lost your mind?”</p><p>“He was just regular big and tall then, not super hammer juiced,” Darcy clarified.</p><p>“And she had an elf toss a car at her,” Bucky added. Brock stared at her.</p><p>“Why are you telling all of these stories about me?” Darcy asked.</p><p>“Oh, no reason,” Bucky said cheerfully. “Thanks for the coffee, Darce.” He kissed her cheek, took the coffee, and glanced back at Rumlow. “We’ve got a card game after sessions, if you like poker,” he said.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Darcy said, baffled. </p><p>“We’re doing the work,” Bucky said. At her expression, he added. “It’s a Sam thing.”</p><p>“Okay,” Darcy said.</p><p>“See you on Movie Mondays,” he said. “Bring him.” She watched Bucky leave. </p><p>“He seems okay,” Darcy said. She looked at Brock. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, sipping his latte. He frowned. “How much sugar is in this?”</p><p>“None,” Darcy said. “It’s a plain latte, I swear.” She sat down, scraping the chair on the floor, and winced slightly. “Everything’s fine?” she said to Rumlow.</p><p>“Sure,” he said. </p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>“You don’t have to fix everything for me, Lewis,” Rumlow told her. He’d been saying that to her for weeks--he complained when she brought coffee and extra scarves to jobs in case he was cold, when she brought him scientific evidence that the Georgetown haunting wasn’t real, and when she offered to water his plants when he was out of town.</p><p>“I can’t help it,” she said. “I need people to fix things for. I thought I was training Jane, but it turns out she was training me. I played myself.”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he said wryly.</p><p>“What are you doing tonight?” she asked.</p><p>“This,” he said. He smirked at her.</p><p>“Shut up,” Darcy grumbled. “I want to go scope out a place, okay?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“This is worse than the time you made me eat at that Chinese place three times because the Lincoln assassins were there,” Rumlow complained, as they sat in his car. </p><p>“Well, I can’t help it that the conspirators boarding house is now a restaurant,” Darcy said, lowering her binoculars. “Although I’m sure that would piss off John Wilkes Booth’s racist ass, so that’s great. And how is this worse?”</p><p>“It’s our third Dolly Madison haunting,” he said.</p><p>“Oh, well, yeah,” Darcy said. “She got around, apparently.” Dolly Madison supposedly haunted multiple DC residences. This one was called Octagon House. “But it’s a museum and we don’t even have to go in,” she said to Rumlow. “I just want to look.”</p><p>“Because you keep thinking you’ll feel a vibe if the hauntings are real,” he said, grimacing.</p><p>“Well, it doesn’t seem haunted,” Darcy said. She looked at him slyly. “You could stand to feel some vibes,” she muttered, intending him to get the double-entendre.</p><p>“I do not get vibes,” he said.</p><p>“I <em> know,” </em> Darcy said, smirking. “You’re very uptight is all.”</p><p>“I’m organized,” Rumlow insisted. “If you had a system--”</p><p>“I don’t want a system, I want fun. And spring rolls, now that you mention it--”</p><p>“You’re highly suggestible,” he said.</p><p>“Yeah,” Darcy sighed out. “It’s a real hazard.” </p><p>“Mmm-hmm,” he said, voice wry. “Also, pushy.” She glanced at him. </p><p>“You okay?” she asked. “If tonight was too much--”</p><p>“Tonight went fine,” Rumlow said, voice more quiet. Darcy looked at him seriously. His expression was tired. He always looked so tired whenever they talked about HYDRA.</p><p>“You shouldn’t feel guilty about things, Brock--” Darcy began, genuinely concerned. She worried Rumlow was lonely.</p><p>“The only way I wouldn’t feel bad was if something was wrong with me--I mean, something else wrong with me worse,” Rumlow said. “So, don’t wor--shit, did you see that?” He was looking at the museum’s upper floors. He pointed. “Light in that window,” he told her. Her gazed followed his gesture and she looked through the windshield. Darcy didn’t see a light. </p><p>“Maybe it’s cleaning staff,” she said.</p><p>“At ten o’clock?” he said.</p><p>“They work late,” she said. She tapped her phone. “Allegedly, this place is haunted by the ghost of one of the first owners’ daughters. They say she quarreled with her dad about being in love with a British soldier and fell over the staircase railing in 1812--”</p><p>“Shit,” Brock said.</p><p>“But there’s no documented evidence that a daughter that age ever existed and lived here,” Darcy said. “It’s fake.”</p><p>“You think you can’t erase documentation?” he asked her. “Give me your binoculars--”</p><p>“Because of a ghost?” she said, passing them to him.</p><p>“Things happen, Lewis,” he said. “For all kinds of reasons.”</p><p>“Okay,” Darcy said slowly.</p><p>
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